Don't treat yourself like that
by Ideas265
Summary: "I feel like there's this wall between me and Luddy. I mean, we're not so close anymore. It's like we have to shout at the top of our lungs just so the under can hear. Then, Luddy stopped coming to the wall, so the albino was left to walk on his own. When the wall was broken years later, he discovered that Luddy had already left to a better place."


**I don't own Hetalia or the characters used in this story. Guess what song inspired me to write this one** **shot. **

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Gilbert wouldn't exactly say he was a good kid. Well, he did make okay grades and all, but most avoided him because he was an albino—something he couldn't change. As the isolation piled higher over his head, he managed to dig himself out to see the light again through the help of his brother, Luddy, and his best friend, Roderich. But even then, the Prussian still felt the weight of difference upon his shoulders.

Maybe that's why he started entering into street fights every week, just to show that he had some use. Maybe that's why he breaks into abandoned apartments around town, just to pawn things to get enough money for him and his _bruder_ to live on. Maybe that's why Gilbert started to space himself away from people—further than he had before.

His decisions—bad as they seem—brought some truth to his eyes. He might've not been the good older brother for Ludwig, but he was serving as an example of how cruel the world could be if you didn't wear the same clothes, so to speak. Then again, he was glad to be able to see Ludwig finish school and go off to college through his hard work and sacrifice. The few visits every year kept Gilbert happy at what he was doing. He didn't mind that his education was cut short. At least, he knew, that his little _bruder_ was going to have a successful life—a dream both brothers prayed for every day.

Gilbert Beilschmidt didn't mind the weird and stressful life he had. In contrary, he thought it was silly and treated every day like an episode in a comedy series, where he was the awesome main character. Wearing fake smiles and laughs _almost _got him to forget the misery from his younger years.

Just _almost…_

It didn't stop the mistreatment he received from his part-time jobs as a messenger, garbage pick-up guy, and street fighter. It didn't stop him from feeling misplaced in a crowd of regular people. Often, people misunderstood him because of his appearance, but it didn't slow the persistent Prussian down.

People, former classmates, and job-partners usually mistaken him as a hoodlum or psycho because of his living conditions and red eyes, but Gilbert always kept them second-guessing when he performed the work better than they did. There were times, however, that he felt underestimated, but he was still walking around, chest held high.

Meeting up with his classical friend, Roderich, at Starbucks was a rare treat for Gilbert during the weekends—before his nightly street fight matches and Roderich's weekly performances at Carnegie Hall. The Austrian always had time to listen and help him through his financial troubles. Sipping his black coffee, Roderich grabbed Gilbert's bony wrist when he wasn't looking.

"What happened, Gil?" he whispered, examining the yellow gash beside Gil's German wristband.

"Just an injury, it's nothing serious," Gilbert hissed, slapping Roderich's hand, covering the wound with his jacket sleeve.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to go and break in apartments?" Roderich lectured, keeping his voice low.

"It's just for extra money, Rod. Someone like you wouldn't understand," Gilbert snapped; chewing his bagel like it was concrete. "I have to do this to support Luddy through college."

"It doesn't mean you have to go and hurt yourself just to get cash," Roderich whispered. Shaking his head, Gilbert pushed his chair back to leave, slapping a quarter by his bagel as tip.

"It's probably better if the world didn't need a monster like me around anyway," Gilbert whispered, heart sinking.

"_But you're not less than perfect_," Roderich wanted to say, but Gilbert had already left the shop, off breaking into apartments and training for the fights tonight.

Stirring his coffee with a spoon, Roderich had to admit that Gil was being too harsh on himself. True, he had to support his brother, but Roderich believed that the albino didn't have to go this far just to do it. He wondered when Gil would start listening to the positives in his head. But, unlike Gil, he didn't have the luxury to sit around and think about it. A few minutes later, the Austrian was on the move to practice tonight's piece at the concert hall.

That night, at Carnegie Hall, as Roderich warmed up, he couldn't help but flicker his eyes to the crowd and back to his music. The seat he had reserved for Gilbert was empty, as empty as the positives that no longer filled Gil's mind. Thinking about it, Gil was making his life more complicated than it had to be.

He was tired of hearing Gil complaining, all his hatred pouring down on him like a river of bad notes. After the concert, he was going to go find Gil and tell him, "_I've had enough_." He was going to tell Gil that he wasn't the only one suffering, and, he was going tell the stubborn albino how proud he was to see him get better each day…

Then, his phone began to vibrate. Roderich was smart enough not to answer it, but, glancing back at Gilbert's empty seat, he'd be stupid not to see who the caller was. Looking right and left, he checked who it was, and he found a text message.

_Missed Call: Gilbert Beilschmidt_

_Text: I'm sorry for causing you so much trouble,  
but, I hope you can forgive me.  
You've been a great friend for all my life.  
I hope to see you on the other side…  
__J_

And that was how Roderich found himself in his car, driving to The Verrazano–Narrows Bridge in the middle of the night, in the middle of his concert, and, in the middle of the snow. Slamming his breaks on, he saw the red and blue of the police car lights as officers cornered Gilbert…_Wait, how did he get so high up the bridge?_

Rushing out his car, Roderich pushed his way through authority figures to get to his friend. Grabbing an officer's megaphone, he yelled,

"Gilbert, what the heck are you doing up there?!" It could've been his imagination, but Roderich swore he saw a twinkle in the albino's eyes.

"Rod…Don't you have a concert you need to be in?"

"How could I stay after reading your text?" Roderich shouted, hands tightening around the megaphone. "Get your butt down here!"

"Stay out of this!" Gilbert snarled, slipping a bit forward. "I've been swallowing the bad times for far too long when I should've been enjoying a nice beer or having lunch with my best friend. Roderich, no matter how hard we try; it's just a waste of my and your time. No one will ever see me as me. No one gets me," Gil shouted, red in the face.

"Gil," Roderich started, struggling to keep his voice calm. "Didn't you ever think someone was suffering alongside with you? Didn't you ever think that if you died, someone would be crying by your grave? What about Ludwig? How am I going to tell him that his brother committed suicide while I did nothing to stop you?"

Gilbert bit his lip, wiping his eyes with his arm. His voice was so faint compared to the snow falling. "Just tell him…I moved away."

"That's avoiding the truth," Roderich countered, clearing his rough throat. "Every person in life has someone that'll walk beside them through thick and thin, no matter how bad their actions were."

"If that's true, why's there only one set of footprints on my life? Oh, that's right, I was dealing with the blows on my own," Gilbert scoffed, rubbing his hands together.

"Didn't you ever think that I was carrying you along the way?" Roderich whispered. "If you really feel like it, then jump, Gilbert. No one's going to stop you. But, if you do, don't forget about your brother and me when you go."

Handing the megaphone back to the officer, Roderich walked back to his car, kicking the snow as he did.

"Wait…Roderich!" The Austrian turned around, seeing his friend waving both of his arms in the air. "Am I good a friend?"

"You're the best I've had in a long time, _schwachkopf_," Roderich whispered, running back to Gilbert, only to see him lose his balance and slip.

"Gil!" In true action hero slow-mo, Roderich jumped into the air, hand stretched out for Gilbert to grab—the adrenaline rushing into his reflexes and mind. Pushing himself forward, Gil grabbed his hand in time for Roderich to fall back. Saying it was a painful landing was an understatement. Roderich was sure that his collar bone or wrist snapped on Gil's impact. Pushing the heavy albino off him, Roderich took in sharp breaths of air.

"You're too heavy. We're going to eat at Subway from now on," Roderich panted, turning over to see Gilbert.

"I feel like there's this wall between me and Luddy. I mean, we're not so close anymore. It's like we have to shout at the top of our lungs just so the under can hear. Then, Luddy stopped coming to the wall, so the albino was left to walk on his own. When the wall was broken years later, he discovered that Luddy had already left to a better place." Gilbert sniffed noisily, covering his face with his arms, but Roderich could still see the tears that fell.

Ruffling Gil's hair, Roderich sighed, "Let's go visit Ludwig together."


End file.
